


Kiss With a Fist

by bizzylizzy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abusive Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzylizzy/pseuds/bizzylizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Shisui doesn't feel safe unless Itachi's cuffed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss With a Fist

**Author's Note:**

> 22nd count down fic. Be warned of violence, abuse, and sexual content.

Itachi always whines about the handcuffs--they’re hard, they dig in, they make him panic. This that and the other, on and on as he frowns and lets Shisui snap them on. Itachi looks like he wants to panic, but Shisui knows what’s coming. He can read the signs. He knows the time is here.

And, honestly, he doesn’t feel safe unless he’s got Itachi cuffed.

Itachi slumps back against the headboard of Shisui’s bed, frowning and fretting with the cuffs around his hands. Shisui should get something padded, he thinks as he leans forward to press his lips to Itachi’s forehead. Itachi rattles the cuffs. His lashes brush Shisui’s cheek, chilling and innocent. Shisui shifts and sits down beside Itachi, gently stroking Itachi’s hair. Itachi drops his head to Shisui’s chest, rattling the cuffs back and forth. Jerking. Testing.  
-  
When you fall in love--literally fall in love the moment you see someone--you never expect it to go badly. You think about happily ever after and shit like that.

You don’t think about reality.

About how love at first sight isn’t something natural and good, and Fate is a cruel bitch.  
-  
Itachi sits on the couch, twisting and turning the cuffs. Once, he got them off. Once, and only once. That was when things got bad and Shisui called the cops. And the ambulance. And Itachi’s parents, who bawled him out, but never offered to let Itachi live with them again.

His adoptive parents.

Because Itachi had killed his real ones when he was eight, right after he learned exactly what had happened to his little brother that never was.

 _‘I was supposed to have a brother so I could do it right this time.’_ Itachi told Shisui once as they sat and drank, pretending to make-out in the corners of a room. Itachi never managed it with convincing feeling.

Still doesn’t. 

Right now, Itachi watches Shisui like a trapped cat. Watches, knowing the mouse is on the other side of the glass, but maybe...maybe, someone will crack the cage and he can get in and get what he wants. Shisui cooks supper, one eye on Itachi, half a mind and less on supper as he tries to overcome the repetitious soul crushing thoughts he always gets when the cuffs come out.

He could break up with Itachi--they had, when they were twelve, sixteen, eighteen, nineteen, and even just six months ago. Screaming fights included for that one. Rage, sorrow, every extreme emotion. Itachi came back two days later with a bottle of _expensive_ sake, and they’d fucked in the kitchen--always Itachi’s I screwed up gift. Sex. 

Considering the episodes that Itachi had during sex sometimes, Shisui really doesn’t miss it. Doesn’t care.

Or so he always tells himself and any couples counselling he attends. It’s not important. It doesn’t matter. The fewer chances Itachi has to go for his eyes, the better.

Itachi stands, black fall of hair shimmering as he moves. He rises up, sways a moment, then walks over to the kitchen. Shisui dressed him in sweats and a button-down shirt. He tucked a blanket all around Itachi earlier, but now it’s gone. Itachi doesn’t stay still. Now Itachi leans on the counter and watches the supper boil. He licks his lips. Shisui reached out and tucks Itachi’s hair back, slipping it behind Itachi’s ear and letting it slide back down his back. 

Itachi smiles and leans his head to the side. He kisses Shisui’s palm. Nuzzles into the flesh and pinches it between his teeth gently. Shisui feels the pleasurable stab of pain. Bites his lip. Looks away as he feels Itachi’s tongue rasp against the injured flesh. Itachi brings his hands up with a captive jingle and cups Shisui’s hand. He turned his head, teeth grazing Shisui’s knuckles and pinching the skin here. There. 

Shisui drags in a shuddering breath, muffled and needy. He feels Itachi smile. Itachi moves into him, turning him with the nudge of a shoulder as he leans up and kisses Shisui’s jaw line--hot and wet as he works his lips over the skin, just a hint of teeth, the slip of the tip of a tongue. Shisui raises his head. Itachi kisses the pulse in his neck. His shackled hands press heavy against Shisui’s waist, till he pulls them up and pulls Shisui down for a kiss.

His hands are tight and heavy. Shisui’s face burns, because Itachi’s mouth is open. He tastes like cinnamon candies, which he loves. His tongue is rough, slick. Reminds Shisui vaguely of a cat as he groans and warmth pools in his gut, trickling down. He cups Itachi’s face, twisting it just so to allow for the deeper kiss. The better angles to make Itachi whine as his knees wobble and he drags them both down. Shisui slides down. Itachi bites his lower lip. Bites his jaw, hard enough to hurt, and Shisui’s body seizes up. Jerks hard. Shisui can’t breathe as Itachi lays a tender kiss on the wound.

Itachi reaches his hands up, Shisui grabs the hem of Itachi’s pants..

And that is when Itachi pulls the pot of boiling pasta down on Shisui.  
-  
Somewhere in the hospital, Itachi is screaming. Screaming about Shisui, if he’s okay. Yelling he didn’t mean to, why did he do it, please take him away. Lock him up.

Shisui can’t hear anything, and he’s so dosed up on pain medication he feels like he’s going to fall off the bed. He just knows what Itachi’s saying, because this is what always happens. He really should have known better, because Itachi isn’t someone to casually seduce you. No. He does it when he wants something else: forgiveness, affection, supper, or anything he can’t just ask for (but he could ask for anything and Shisui would give it to him.)

Shisui hugs himself with his good arm and waits for the nurse to dress the burns. He listens to her tell him its okay when its not. It never is, and he hurts. Through the drugs and haze, he hurts. He’s thinking about Itachi, about how he kept kissing as the water ran down Shisui’s face and neck and soaked his shirt. He’s thinking of how his scream was swallowed.

He’s thinking that if Itachi hadn’t tried to smother him, they probably would have had sex on the floor.  
-  
You know, it’s not a good thing, being bonded to someone so closely.  
-  
It takes Shisui two months to work up the courage, or forget enough and miss enough, to go and see Itachi. 

This is the mental hospital, the very nice and large private one, Itachi has been in and out of since he was twelve. He has moved wards, but it’s the same building. The same smells and tastes in Shisui’s mouth as he gets his visitor’s pass and checks anything dangerous before moving into the room.

The air tastes like medication. Sterilized thoughts. Shisui’s tongue shrivels in his mouth. His heart pounds in his head, and he feels like his stomach is trying to crawl out of his mouth.

Itachi sits with his hands unbound, his burns healed, and his wrists wrapped. His head is lowered, but as he hears Shisui approach, he lifts his head. He smiles, barely, weakly, as if the gestures hurts. Shisui stops to stare.

Itachi’s hair brushes his jaw line and nothing more.

It actually looks like a good cut, not like someone hacked it off with safety scissors. As Shisui makes himself move, he notices that Itachi’s hands are shaking. There’s something wild in the corners of Itachi’s eyes as Shisui sits down carefully, as if he’ll break the setting if he’s not gentle. They’ve been here a few times over the years, visiting in this sterile room and pretending this visit will be the one that fixes things.Shisui’s burns ache still, though they’re “healed.”

“What happened?” Shisui asks, shifting and leaning on the table.

“A fight.” Itachi shrugs. “Someone had something sharp.” And Itachi’s hair has been a victim. They’d probably left it as long as possible. Shisui nods. Itachi shifts, chair squeaking. There’s a silence as they don’t look at eachother, then they ask how things are,fading in and out with gentle mumbles as Shisui considers touching Itachi’s hand.

“I think I should stay in,” Itachi hesitates as he speaks, almost stuttering through the mumbles. “I don’t think I should leave.”

“You hate it here. You can’t stay here forever,” Shisui protests. 

“I never get any better. I always keep...I keep going _back,_ ” Itachi fights with the words, choking them out with frustration. _Back_ is where Shisui gets hurt, half killed, or terrified. Back is a bad place, usually where they break up of Itachi gets admitted. They do keep going _back_. Both of them.

“Maybe it will be different,” Shisui promises without feeling. Itachi stares, looking thin and frayed at his edged. He’s unravelling, and this times he sees it. This time he knows, and he looks terrified. 

“We’ll be okay.” Shisui touches Itachi’s cold hand, gently holds it, and they stay this way until the orderly comes to tell Shisui visiting hours are over, Itachi needs to go to group therapy now. Itachi’s hand stays cold, but he lets Shisui press a kiss to his forehead as he leaves.  
-  
Fate--she isn’t something you can count on, but neither is she something you can ignore. Not fully.  
-  
Another two months later, Shisui is identified as the problem--the reason. No one asks him why. No one says anything, except the doctor when Shisui tries to visit tell him Itachi is more “agitated” after Shisui’s visits, and his acts of aggression are always towards Shisui. Always triggered by Shisui these days.

Shisui smiles thinly and writes Itachi a letter. But, he is informed by a man in uniform a few days later, Itachi’s parents have filed a restraining order against him. Shisui expects that Itachi will come when he gets out, no matter what is said or supposed by the people of the world..

A year later, he learns Itachi has been out for six months.

He burns his photos of Itachi and moves out of the country.


End file.
